


For You I Will ( What's Left )

by MazieMaze



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29077371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MazieMaze/pseuds/MazieMaze
Summary: "She gave me the purest thing I could ever have in this world. I didn't think I'd ever be able to see the beauty in anything, until I met my heartbeat outside of my body." In which Negan escapes his cell to find the one part of them that isn't dirty, recalling the days before the world became corrupt and a vow he made to Lucille.





	For You I Will ( What's Left )

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the roughness. This is my first ever The Walking Dead Fanfiction. 

**Copyright 2021 MazieMaze. All rights reserved.**

Negan slowly approached the narrow pathway, up ahead sat an abandoned, decrepit shack with a tilted roof. The old wooden building still looked moderately decent despite the cobwebs that decorated it. It had been a while since he'd been to the place. It had once had meaning. It still did. He wanted time alone in this particular place, just to clear his mind with its racing thoughts. He picked this place for a reason since it rang with something he had not had in a long time. Before the world went to shit. 

Negan stared into the sky, the sun's rays beamed down on him, he smiled sincerely. He had never been more grateful for the heat's rays beating down on him. Taking a deep breath he marched forward towards the shack that once you got closer to it, wasn't so small. A rocking chair sat outside of it, one of the windows was cracked, and a web hung off to the far left of it. He tried to ease his beating heart. It was going to be okay. Once at the front door, he saw the heavy chain and lock on it. Reaching inside of his pocket, Negan produced a small, silver key. He inserted it into the lock, turning it, and with a click, the heavy lock came undone. Negan then proceeded to unravel the metal chains. They'd been looped about three times. It took a while for the heavy chain to fall with an unceremonious thud to the ground. 

With just a just touch, the door opened with a creak, echoing in the room. The only things occupying the room were a bookshelf, an old chester drawer that was rotted, and a few empty can goods. It smelled like earth instead of the decaying shit he thought he'd face. It was almost a relief to be able to not hold his breath. 

Negan glanced at the small hallway. Exhaling the breath he had no idea he was holding, he advanced to the hallway, his heavy steps making the wooden floor boards creak and groan underneath his weight. With two powerful strides, the former Savior's leader stopped in front of another door, this one open slightly so that he could peek inside the room. He pushed it open, this door not making a sound as he stepped inside. In the middle of the room was a bed, grateful that the bed didn't make a sound. He sat on it, his back facing the wall. 

_Inhale._

  
  


_Exhale._

  
  


There was something about this that gave him an eerie calm. Negan had never been a poet, but being here in this place felt like he still had something left to live for. He'd always been strong, but in that vulnerable moment where he broke down in front of Maggie. 

_"So I can be with my wife, so I can be with Lucille!"_

The anguished cries of a broken man. Negan rubbed his chest as though it were sore, closing his eyes as he let his mind wander off to better times. 

"I'm sorry... Lucille," he whispered more to himself. 

"You deserved so much better than me. I was a shit husband. You were just too good to be true...and I fucked up." Negan raked a hand through his hair. 

"I'm just glad you're not here to see me like this. What I have left of you... that's what gets me by. I hope you can hear me...I have so much to tell you. But we'd be here for eternity..." 

Negan clenched his fists. 

"I wish I had had that time with you... I've failed." 

Negan's eyes swept up to the head of the bed, he swallowed a lump in his throat. 

"As much as I'd love to join you, to see you again, I'm still needed here. You gave me something any lucky man could ever dream of. I still have that strength... I'll use it. I won't fold." 

Negan reached forward, his hand resting on a small hand belonging to a body curled underneath the thick blankets. He closed his hand over the smaller one. The rise and fall of their lax body have him comfort. 

"The best gift you ever gave me, that I didn't deserve to have." On contact with his warm hand, the figure in the bed stirred, shifted until the blankets fell off of their body. The young person sat up, blinked to clear their eyes from slumber. Long, black hair tumbled down past her waist, eyes similar to Negan's own occulars, honed in on him. She gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. 

Oh, how she squeezed. 

"Daddy!" The little girl cried, wrapping her arms around Negan, holding onto him for dear life. Negan hugged her tight, careful not break her. Negan buried his nose in her soft hair, inhaling her sweet scent. 

"Yes, it's daddy baby girl. God I've missed you. I'm happy you're safe and sound. I'm sorry I haven't been around more." Negan massaged his daughter's back, rubbing small circles there. Just hearing her voice alone made him feel whole again. She was a little older than Judith and being with her was like having his daughter around. Way before the attacks, Negan had hid his daughter away from Rick's group. He had hated leaving her in this dump, but he couldn't risk her being a hostage or worst. He frequently visited her, providing her with plenty of food and water. But after having his throat slit Negan worried that his daughter would be found. And that'd he'd never see her again. 

He'd rather be a dead man. 

  
  


Negan peered into the corner of his daughter's room, noticing that she only had less than a few days left of food. One jug of water. 

Fuck. 

"It's okay, dad. I knew you'd come back." She told him. 

"Baby girl? Where's the lady daddy left with you to keep you safe?" 

Negan felt his daughter grow quiet in his arms, she pulled back to look up at him, his eyes downcast. 

"The walkers ate her," she said quietly. "We were out for a walk, there was a noise, she pushed me out of the way and told me to run. I glimpsed back one last time to see her...she could only fight off so many. I heard her fall and scream..." Her face saddened, but she shook it off. 

"That doesn't matter now. I'm just happy to see you..." 

Negan squeezed his daughter's upper shoulders. 

"I'm real happy to see you too, Pamela." 

Pamela beamed at her father's words. Negan did a double take. God, if she didn't look just like him. There was some of Lucille in there, too. How could he have gotten something so perfect? 

"Pamela, daddy has something to say." 

Pamela tilted her head slightly. 

"About what daddy? Is something wrong?" 

You have no idea baby girl. 

"Yeah, there is. It's something really important. Do you remember when you were a little girl? How you used to ask about your mother?" 

Negan had never told Pamela about Lucille. Pamela was a constant reminder of her mother and everyday Negan looked at her, he felt like someone was ripping his heart out of his chest. Watching her grow up within the walls of The Sanctuary, Negan practically hovered over Pamela. He never let her leave his sight, always keeping her confined in the walls. He tried to spend as much as time with her as possible, the rare occasions where he could stand in her doorway, watching her sleep, playing with her, counting her fingers and toes, just knowing that she was alive gave him a sense of purpose. 

The older Pamela got, she asked him who her mother was. The question caught him off guard completely, choked him, and he couldn't look at his own child after that. He'd shut her down every time, telling her a few lies, until he stopped altogether whenever Pamela asked the identity of her mother. 

Pamela had never known the affectionate presence of a mother. Negan blamed himself for that. She'd ask and ask, never really being able to break him. He would just give her the cold shoulder. Boy, did he try to be a mother and a father at the same time. God, did he try. 

Pamela nodded. 

"I remember." 

"Do you know how she died?" 

Pamela nodded. 

"You told me that she'd died from complications of childbirth, that I barely made it and she told you to take me." Pamela chewed on her bottom lip. 

"I... don't know what she looks like...what she sounds like..." 

Negan caressed the side of Pamela's face. 

"I'm sorry." 

"It's not your fault dad. I guess stuff like that happens..." 

Negan took out a piece of paper from his jacket, a letter for his daughter. 

"Pamela, I haven't been honest with you over the years. It's time to tell you the truth. That's why I'm here." 

Pamela furrowed her eyebrows. 

"The truth? What haven't you been honest about?" Pamela asked, noticing the letter in her father's hand. Negan handed the folded letter to her. 

"This will tell you everything... I've done alot of things I'm not proud of, lying to you about your mother is definitely my greatest regret." 

Pamela held into the letter, peering at Negan through her lashes. 

"I... just hope you don't hate me afterwards. You're old enough to understand now." Negan kissed Pamela's forehead, rising to his full height. 

"I'll give you some privacy. I'll be waiting for you, okay?" 

Pamela nodded watching her father leave the room. Pamela unfolded the letter in her hands, smoothing it on her lap. Her eyes scanned over the page. 

  
  


_My dearest baby girl,_

_I think that it’s time for me to tell you a little bit about your mother and how we met. Maybe it will help you understand some things about yourself._

_Your mother's name...my wife's name was Lucille. She got me through. I didn't give her shit, and she got me through. Just life. Regular life. You... You got me through this. So I named you Pamela . And the bat Lucille. That's it. Nothing more to do with her than that. But you're the last little piece of her that I got left._

_My first wife was a real wife. My only real life 'til death did us part. It was before this. I lied to her. I screwed around on her. She was sick and when she went, when she went it was during this. I couldn't put her down. That is how I was weak. That is what I will confess because, yeah, maybe we do bite the big one here._

_This is very difficult for me to write. As you know, I have told you very little to next to non-existent about Lucille. And the reason is because I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you to spend your childhood depressed about her loss. I was trying to spare you the suffering I’ve gone through until I saw that you were strong enough. Of course, I underestimated you. You’ve always been strong enough. There was nobody else in the world for me besides Lucille. She was the only woman I ever loved. For the years we were together, I didn’t even look at another woman. Finding her was like a fairy tale. You read about these perfect love stories but you never think they’re going to happen to you. The time when I met her was a real wild one for me._

_From the moment I first laid eyes on Lucille, I knew she was the one, even though she was one of dozens of identical women when I first saw her. She just radiated in comparison with everyone else. To this day, I still can’t explain it._

_I certainly wasn’t expecting it. It’s like what my mother always used to say about being struck by lightning. I looked at her and she looked at me, and I went, “Whoa!” That was it. It was amazing. That had never happened to me in my life. I first met her a café shop, as cliché as that sounds. She was reading a poetry book. I forget the title now._

_The moment she laid eyes on me, I was struck stupid. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. And then she smiled at me. I could have literally died on the spot. She was radiant. For the next six months, I made excuses just to see Lucille. I would often skip work, miss meals, every waking moment just to see her at her favorite spot._

_When she walked into the cafè, she radiated grace. She looked too fragile and innocent for this earth. I said to her, “I really enjoy meeting you. Can I buy you a drink?”_

  
  


_Since she thought I was someone important, she patronized me. But she would not look me in the eye. She made it perfectly clear that she was doing this against her will. We chatted for a minute, and then I said, “It was really nice meeting you.” I turned around and began talking to the idiot ventriloquist in the show. Lucille was stunned. She expected me to hit on her and brag about myself like every other creep in the place._

  
  


_Two nights later, I decided to finally ask your mother out._

_For three weeks straight, I would meet Lucille. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. We went on a few dates in that time. And eventually she decided that she was ready to have sex with me. She had come to the conclusion that I would be the one. Of course, I wasn’t ready yet to commit myself to her, but I didn’t tell her that._

  
  


_This is probably too much information, but we made beautiful love. When it was over, we lay in bed together, side by side, and I wept. I cried. And I knew right then and there what I wanted. I told her, “We are going to get married.” From that day on, your mother and I were inseparable. For the first time ever with a woman, I was honest. I told her everything about myself: not just about the coaching job, but that I was making money at a shit school. I had a certain lifestyle and, if I truly loved her, I needed to be honest about it. It wasn't soon before long that things finally fell into place. And we got married._

  
  


_If she had lived, I would have still been married to her to this day. I never would have left her. Let me tell you, it was the best years of my life. Even if I had the worst life in the world afterward, I knew I’d always have that. Who gets so lucky? And then to have you to carry it on? She was an amazing woman, baby girl. She never fought, she never raised her voice, she never drank or did drugs. And she never had a single blemish on her face. She had you going and I was semi old, and she had her body back in a week. Her stomach was rock hard. You look so much like her: your eyes, your nose, your bone structure. Your hands and your feet are carbon copies of hers. Even though you got the majority of your looks, hair, eyes, etc. From your old man._

  
  


_All of your mannerisms are the same: the way you walk, the way you turn your back, even the way you cock your head._

_She was so shy, but when it was just the two of us, she just lit up the world. And that’s exactly how you are. To this day, whenever you walk in the room, I always get that feeling I had when I was around her. You may think that’s weird. I don’t know if you know this, but we tried for years to have children. She told me back then that she wanted to have a SUV load of them before she died. It was like she knew. I was in total denial. She was the fittest girl in the world. She never even had as much as a cold or a toothache in her life. I have no idea how she knew. She just felt it. And she wanted to have children before she died. That was all we talked about. We tried everything to get her pregnant. ._

_IVF, surrogates, you name it. But it seemed like she couldn't get pregnant. We were successful at one point. We were overjoyed. But the happiness didn't last long. Your mother miscarriaged. I can remember waking up one morning to see her clutching her lower abdomen. I had never seen so much blood in my life. I nearly lost her._

_Your mother slipped into a deep depression afterwards. She hardly ate or slept. I'd hold her every night, whispering lullabies to her. I wanted her to be alright. She was all I had._

_We didn't try again for a while afterwards.We became clear and did the whole thing, and Lucille still couldn’t get pregnant. We finally decided to adopt but, seven days/weeks before the adoption went through, Lucille came home from the doctor and said, “I’m pregnant.”_

_The pregnancy was a breeze, despite her severe morning sickness. We were weary the first three months, praying that this would be our miracle baby. We named you Pamela after your mother's mother in her honor._

  
  


_You were a snap. You came out with a big grin on your face. She had no problems at all. She didn’t gain any extra weight and was active until the day we went to the hospital. You were a joy as a child. Then, of course, everything went bad. It began when Lucille went to the doctor for her annual check up._

_I thought I could handle alot of shit. But I was not prepared for something like this. It was the worst thing I’ve ever been through._

_I felt so useless: I literally exhausted everything I could do._

  
  


_._

_I lost somebody that was close to me. The best part of me. Pancreatic cancer. If the disease wasn't eating her up from the inside, then the chemo was kicking the ever-loving shit out of her. And yet... I don't know, maybe, uh... maybe the cancer just put things in perspective. She was, uh... she was never more beautiful. Didn't matter how frail she got. Even when she lost her hair._

_The thing is, when she was gone... I just--I didn't feel much of anything anymore, you know? I didn't feel scared, I didn't feel happy, I, uh... I didn't feel anything. I was just... here. And that is my strength. Now, me? I am dead to this world. But you? See, you are my most precious gift. You are the light of my life._

_Pamela, you're the most precious thing your mother ever gave me. Baby girl, Daddy's going to be honest. You may not be ready to hear this._

_I was not good to your mother. I worked hard, I supported you both, and but I was not faithful. You can ask me questions. I won’t lie. As soon as you were old enough to talk, you asked me, "Who was my mommy? What was she like? You never talk about her."_

_I couldn't bring myself to do it. You were barely even three, hell, not close to being one when your mother died. You are a constant reminder of her. Somedays it was hard to look at you, because you look exactly like her. Sometimes I'd call you Lucille by mistake._

_People don’t want to be around death and grief. It’s one of those things a person has to go through on their own. It was such a daunting future without her, Pamela. For a year, I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was a challenge just walking and chewing gum at the same time._

_I stored away photos and mementos of your mother because the memories were too great. I still wish I had had more time with her. As much as I hate to admit it, I believe your mother died hating me. I was a real bastard. And I'll never see her again. But as long as I have you, your mother is still here with us. You're my heartbeat outside my body Pamela._

_I realize now that I was hurting you by not telling you about your mother. I'm ready now. I have photos and everything of Lucille to show you. And I hope that deep inside of your heart, that you can forgive me. I don't want to destroy the one good thing I've done right in my entire life. I will continue to do right by just like your mother wished me to do._

_Pamela, I'm here for you. I will never stop loving you. I love watching you grow. I hope I can find peace after this._

_Lucille, I hope you're at peace. I hope you... I hope you're in heaven, and you fell in love with someone who treats you better than I ever did, and that they're loving your brains out and then telling you how beautiful you are after that on a daily basis. I'll always miss you, Lucille. I'm sorry I named a fucking baseball bat after you._

_I will continue to be the foundation, the rock, for our daughter. The better part of us and the good times in the early years._

_I stumbled around for years just trying to be happy again, trying to figure out how to raise you Pamela. But slowly I learned. And the most important thing I learned was to love being a father._

_You are my person of peace._

  
  


_I love you. You impress me each and every day._

_Love, Daddy._

  
  
  
  


Pamela sucked in a breath, held the letter to her chest and blinked away the sheen of tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. Her mother hadn't died in childbirth. It was cancer. She'd heard the disease ate away at one's body, leaving them weak. She imagined her mother on her death bed, barely taking shallow breaths before her entire body just shut down on her. Pamela wiped her eyes. For all those years she felt empty, having no connection to anyone or anything, except for her father. She knew how dangerous the world was, what her father did to keep her safe. Pamela looked at the letter again, her eyes dancing off of particular words. 

She gulped. Pamela scrambled off of her bed, raced out of her room, and burst outside, seeing her father standing in the middle of the crooked trees, his back to her. He appeared to have the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. Pamela held the letter out, folded it again and walked over to her father. Should she be angry at him? Run away from him? No. Then he'd really be alone. 

Pamela approached her father's side, reaching a hand to clasp into his big one. She squeezed it, looking up at him. 

  
  


"It's going to be okay, dad. You have me forever..." Pamela smiled at him. 

  
  


Negan managed a smile, looking down at the one person left in the world that loved him. He didn't show it, but the weight of being in charge weighed on him.

"Thanks baby." Negan placed his other hand over hers and gave his daughter a wink. "I'm trying.. for you."

He sighed through his nose and knew Pam was getting old enough to understand his mannerisms. She knew when he was happy, sad, stressed..

"Don't worry about me. You're all I need." 

  
  


"And you're all I need. I know you have a lot on your shoulders. I'm here whenever you need me. I have the rest of my life with you, Daddy. I love you. I always will." 

  
  


Pamela nestled closer to her father. "Dad? I know...mom has been an uncomfortable topic for you. Whenever I brought her up, I saw how sad you looked...you have to understand that it's painful for me, too. To not have her here hurts...but I still have you." Pamela choked out. 

"Lucille...was my mother," Pamela breathed barely above a whisper. 

  
  
  


Negan's eyes went from soft and tired to suddenly alerted. He felt the shift in his own posture and cleared his throat.

"Lucille.." he spoke her name. Negan always spoke her name and it lingered on his tongue in a different way than any other two-syllables could.

His daughter's eager eyes stared back at him. They were full of wonder. Pam was wise beyond her years. There was no way around it. Negan was both grateful she could hold her own and also felt true heartbreak for her inability to truly enjoy her childhood.

There was no sense in lying to her. He couldn't have done that anyway.

  
  


Negan nodded and looked down and then back up. "There's a lot to that story.. our story." He smirked and tipped her chin to look at him with his first two fingers. "You're all I have left of her. You.. you've got her facial expressions.. her good heart."

He felt a burn in his eyes from the tears he was fighting back.

"I knew you'd ask one day. Maybe I should've said something sooner. I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair. "She was special.. so special.. one of a kind special."

Negan knew that Pamela was at least somewhat aware of his wives from the Sanctuary.

"Remember how I told you how the world used to be.. before all this? With airplanes and schools and restaurants where people served food.." his eyes met hers again. "That's the world where I met your mother. She was my one and only." 

  
  
  


Pamela felt her eyes prick with tears. She could hear the anguished pain in his voice, too many memories of her mother. She had none of her. She wanted to know. She could tell by the way he looked that her mother was his only true love. 

Pamela nodded. 

"I remember. Can you...tell me more about her? Please, Daddy?" 

She heard the words, "She was my one and only." Her heart hurt just thinking about the pain he was in. Pamela tightened her hold onto her father's hand. 

"It's okay. Tell me about the world dad." 

  
  
  


"I'll.. I'll tell you whatever you want to know princess." Negan smiled, finally losing the battle with his tears as they made his eyes shimmer. No one would ever see him like this - no one but his daughter.

She looked at him as if to say, it's alright.

"Your mom.. she was much much better than me. If you think I take good care of you," he huffed a laugh and dried his eyes, "..she would've had my ass for letting you around all this.. violence." 

Negan laughed again. "And for swearing in front of you.. which I think I've done a better job of."

They shared a fleeting chuckle but he could see her starry eyes still staring at him as if he was telling her a bedtime story. In a way, he was.

"The second I saw her I knew I wanted to marry her. I know that must seem crazy, right? We didn't even know each other." Negan continued to smile. "I bought her a ring two weeks after our first date.. of course I waited a long time after that to propose.. not because I didn't think she was the one but.. I didn't want to put that pressure on her right away. But.. I knew."

A sigh barreled through his chest and he ran a hand through his hair. "She was my world and you were our miracle child." He pointed at Pamela and then swiped her nose playfully. "There's a lot of fluff in between. But you.. you've got that sweet shyness you're mother had.. with a tiny bit of my ferocity when you get a little angry." He winked. 

"I love ya kid." 

  
  


"I love you too, Daddy!" Pamela hugged her father real tight. 

"What was Mama's favorites? What did she smell like? Just be honest with me. I can take it." 

She looked up at him with adoring eyes, for a fleeting second registering that her mother, despite never seeing her face, was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her father spoke so fondly of her. Pamela gulped. 

"I'll be honest, dad. Sometimes... sometimes I wished I could join Mama. Sometimes I wish I would die, go to Heaven to be with her. But you'd be alone. I wouldn't do that to you." 

  
  


Negan felt his face grow series, cheeks hot and eyes burn even more. He started to cry now - genuinely cry.

"Don't say those things," he said, trying not to sound like he was scolding her. "You.. you're a miracle Pamela. You.. you're here for so many special reasons."

He dried his eyes and composed himself. 

"I do need you," he added, smiling now beneath wet eyelashes. "Your mom.. her favorites?" Negan cleared his throat. "She loved a good old fashioned spaghetti.. ice cream, cookie dough was her favorite kind or a sundae. Her favorite color was orange.. a bright orange." 

He scratched the back of his head as he struggled, but willingly and eagerly so, to go down memory lane. "She always smelled like.. baby powder and coconut shampoo. Even her pillow smelled like that. She loved the beach and watching baseball games with me. Most of all.. she couldn't wait to be a mom. Unfortunately she barely got any time with you. That's my biggest tragedy." 

  
  


Pamela closed her eyes, imagining a beautiful woman who smelled like baby powder and coconut shampoo. Her voice sounded like music, envisioning her mother on the beach with light in her eyes so pure it made her heart hurt. 

Pamela pulled her father down slightly so that she could hold onto him, letting him hold her in his strong arms. She wiped her father's face with her delicate hands. 

"Don't cry, please. I hate seeing you like that. All of those things...I bet you and mama loved each other's company, huh. I'd never leave you."

She continued to wipe her father's face, kissing his nose and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Just as Negan was about to speak, Pamela shook her head, and silenced him with a finger. 

  
  


" I know now. Mommy was the love of your life, she can never be replaced. But you not telling me about her, I always felt like I was a reminder. I do remember most days where you couldn't look at me sometimes, because I reminded you of mommy." 

Pamela chewed on her bottom lip, touching her father's face. 

"I don't have memories of her. I don't know what she looks like, the way she smiles, what her hugs and caresses mean; it hurts me. Yes, I do wish that I could meet mommy, but I could never leave you alone." 

Pamela kissed her father's cheek for a long moment. 

"You're all I have left of her, that means she's watching over us. That's what gets me through. I wake up everyday and say, "I love you mommy," and get on with my day. What you're doing for me...for us, it's the best thing. You're the strongest man I know." 

Pamela smoothed her father's dark hair so much like hers. His eyes, like hers, she could see her reflection in them. She hated seeing him so sad. She knew his emotions better than anyone else. Even as a child she could read his body language, it was almost scary. 

"When I was growing up, I'd watch you. So deeply motivated in your leadership, how you fought for the sake of your people. Doing what you could, no matter the sacrifice, never seemed like a tough decision for you..." Her voice trailed off. 

"I used to think there was a wall between the two of us. I... just kept my distance because you had other things to worry about than a kid, even though I'm your kid. That doesn't mean I never felt your love, sense of security, your words spoken softly to me as I went to sleep. I feel all of those things, now and forever. I always have." 

She blinked back a sheen of tears. 

  
  


"I love you so much, daddy. It's going to be us for a very long time. I'm grateful for you. I could never hate you. Mom wouldn't like that. In this world children are killed or get you killed. And I know you'd murder for me. That's what I love about you." 

Pamela beamed. 

"I'm not a kid anymore, so you don't have to treat me like one. A girl like me has to develop thick skin. Hopefully you and I can spend time together... despite the bloodshed. It'll get better." 

She wrapped her arms around her father's neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

"As cruel and merciless as our world is, we must protect it. That's what makes us human. I'll always love you for your sacrifices dad and your bravery. I'll always be with you." 

  
  


Negan almost fell to his knees, holding onto his daughter like she was a life preserver. His face was with with tears, he held onto the back of Pamela's head and back, trying to bend down from the wave of emotions. 

"You really mean that, don't you?" He choked out. 

"I do daddy. I forgive you, but you're going to have to make up for alot of time with me." 

Negan nodded, pulling his daughter back to peck her on her forehead with kisses that made her shriek with delight. 

"I'll do whatever you want baby girl. I promise." Negan sniffed, smoothing Pamela's long hair. 

"Pamela, I'm taking you with me. Let's get the hell out of here, okay?" 

Pamela nodded fervently. 

"Where are we going dad?" 

"Somewhere I can look after you, where we can be together as a family. Like you've always wanted. There's someone I'd like you to meet." 

"Like who?" Pamela questioned. 

Negan smiled real big. 

"She's special... just like you. One hell of a spitfire. I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine." 

Giving his daughter one more kiss, Negan hoisted his daughter up in his arms, heading into the opposite direction. 

"I bet you're hungry, baby girl." 

Pamela nodded. 

"I'm starving." 

"Well, I got just the thing for you. How would you like some spaghetti?" 

  
  



End file.
